The Warm Touch of Death
by Sideos
Summary: The world is dying of cancer, rotting away from it's own hate. Todd is beset on all sides by cold hate and grey terror. Only one person gives him an escape because she is removed from the world... she is the ghost who offers life. Romance Todd/Ghost Girl.


HO SHIT LOOK AT THIS.

I'M A POSTIN' A STORY.

ITS BEEN AGES N' STUFF.

EPIC SHIT, NO?

This isn't a real pairings story… it's just a basic artsy love story. It's an idea that, as always, probably hasn't been done much or before and so I leap onto it and munch away at it like a starving child on pie.

I honestly don't think it's one of my better ideas, but damn, it just won't exist my MIIND and therefore it must be wrotten.

I OWN EVERYTHING IN THIS.

FUCK YOU JV.

* * *

Todd was always dead, his body just pretended to have life.

Todd's room was always cold. It was always grey. It had shadows that lurked in every corner, no matter what time of day it was. It creaked and moaned and groaned as if it had a cancer slowly eating away at it. Wallpaper never changed pealed from the walls, revealing the stark plaster sores underneath.

Todd's bed was freezing, the sheets unwashed, the springs poking up through the mattress and digging into his back as he slept.

Dust settled on everything, forcing all things to grow old before their time. Broken toys from a depressing childhood lay on the floor like forgotten war victims.

Pictures drawn by Todd decorated the walls, giving a glimpse into his mind, monsters, horrors, terrors and nightmares… and the girl.

She was the only living thing in his life.

Growing up had been hard. Todd had woken up every day wishing that the world had changed overnight. He would stay up late waiting for it, watching the moon crawl across the sky, waiting for the world to suddenly stop being full of anger and hate and sadness and suffering.

But it never came… it never changed… it just kept spinning.

He grew older and the depression got worse. His drunken junkie of a mother would insult him, threaten him, yell and scream and scare him. His father would hit him, hard, throw him out and destroy things around him.

His neighbour killed people, until even he vanished that one night.

The kids at school called him names and hit him, ignored him, cast him away.

Todd cried every night for ten years before he finally ran out of tears. He'd cut himself to try and push the pain away, but he never felt anything, only numbness and the light tickle of blood dripping down his forearm.

He'd stopped creating a long time ago, because that only hurt him more. No one cared about his ideas, his thoughts. His mind was bare now, running only on the day-to-day operations that barely kept him alive.

Eat, drink, escape before parents woke up, school, write down words, eat, get beat up, write down more words, get beat up, walk home alone, spend time next door waiting for the sun to fall, sneak back into house and if caught, get punched by dad, get bottle thrown at his head by mom, hide in room, cut self, fade to sleep shivering at the thought of doing it all the next day.

He felt like something was eating at him, from the inside of his heart, from the inside of his mind. Some kind of virus that was tearing him apart, bit by bit, little by little, everyday. Everyday he woke up a little more lifeless than the night before.

But sometimes… just sometimes… she came to him. Always at midnight, always for an hour, but that was the one hour that Todd truly felt alive.

She listened to him.

She talked to him.

Her presence was the warmest thing in his life.

Her words were kindness and her eyes pools of love that he never saw otherwise.

She was as tall as he was, a little lanky, skinny and she had freckles with two ponytails. She was blessed with countryside prettiness and always adorned in a robe that melted away towards her feet. It seemed ghosts could age just as people… or perhaps she just chose to change her form, Todd never asked, he was just grateful for her company at all.

Her only company was Todd. Todd's only company was her.

She was fiery and rebellious. She was expressive and loud. She was emotional and determined. She told Todd to fight back, to take control, to end his daily torture.

She wasn't a ghost, she wasn't dead, she was more alive then he was. He was the ghost, living in a world of shadow and pain and suffering, she was life and freedom and light.

Her skin shone like moonlight and illuminated everything around her like an angel.

Todd was numb inside and out… but her touch, her words, her warmth, her being made him feel something inside which he never felt before.

He felt alive.

He told her he wanted to join her, in life. That was the only way he could have life, it was the only way to wake up from his death.

She nodded and offered her hand.

She was so beautiful.

Todd had almost forgotten what it felt like, to smile.

His wrists were hurting but that didn't matter now. The last of the venom was flowing out him and soon he'd be free. He felt lighter already. The sheets of his grey bed were being coloured by red, the world was gaining colour at last.

Todd could feel her soft skin as he took her hand, he could feel warmth seeping into his body as he embraced her, he could feel the life from her lips as he kissed her.

Todd was finally felt alive.

* * *

OH YEAH.

You love it don't you? You like it like that.

Oh, so, yea symbolism is at an all time high here. Life-death, cold-warm and all that. Ghost girl is all YAY and Todd's life is all NO.

Also, wrote this in under… 2 hours? 3 at most I think.

So yea, ENJOY.

Also, brush your teeth before bedtime.

R&R


End file.
